


I Will Try to Fix You

by geekkitty (braezenkitty)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 11x03, Angst with a Happy Ending, Angsty Schmoop, Castiel in the Bunker, Coda, Cuddling, Dean resisting affection, Dean's an emotional wreck, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode: s11e03 The Bad Seed, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Season/Series 11, Spooning, but eventually accepting it, castiel being forgiving, castiel giving aftercare, dean mentally beating himself up, implied possible eventual bdsm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-25
Updated: 2015-10-25
Packaged: 2018-04-28 03:22:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5075905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/braezenkitty/pseuds/geekkitty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean is mentally beating himself up for hurting Cas, wallowing in self-hatred and the pain from AttackDog!Cas beating him. Cas gives him the aftercare he doesn't know he needs, and they struggle hug it out. Spooning ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Will Try to Fix You

_“Dean, I can fix that.”_

 

Castiel’s words echoed in Dean’s mind as he lay in bed, trying to fall asleep. He couldn’t believe Cas would want to spare him any pain after what he’d done a few weeks ago. Dean deserved this, he needed the pain. He focused on his throbbing jaw. It wasn’t nearly enough.

 

_“...I can fix that...”_

 

No. Cas couldn’t fix this, not really. Sure, he could mojo away the physical damage, but not the damage caused by Dean almost killing him. Letting this pain run its course was only a small portion of the penance he owed Cas. Dean sucked his bottom lip into his mouth so he could feel it pulse, each beat of his heart causing a small shock of pain. It still wasn’t enough.

 

_“...can fix that...”_

 

Dean groaned and kicked his blanket off. Sleep just wasn’t going to happen. Maybe one more beer would help. He sat up and reached for his dead guy robe, getting one arm in a sleeve when he heard a soft knock at his bedroom door.

 

“Dean?”

 

He froze at the sound of Cas calling his name.

 

“Are you awake?”

 

He considered keeping quiet, pretending to be asleep. Talking to Cas was something he’d have to do eventually, but guilt still consumed him, and he wasn’t exactly sure where he stood with Cas yet. He had hit his emotional limit worrying about fixing Cas all day, and he wasn’t sure he could deal with more tonight.

 

He slipped on the other arm of the robe and found himself moving to open the door anyway. Cas stood in the hallway in his full ‘holy tax accountant’ getup, holding a glass of water.

 

“Hey, Cas.”

 

“Hello, Dean. I hope I didn’t wake you.”

 

“Nah, I was already up.”

 

“Oh, good,” Cas shuffled nervously, looking down at his feet. “I mean, not good that you weren’t sleeping, just—”

 

“It’s fine, Cas,” Dean interrupted. “What’s up?”

 

“I brought you some painkillers,” Cas said, holding up a bottle of pills.

 

Dean huffed a surprised laugh and raised his eyebrows at Cas.

 

“Is this not what humans do when dealing with painful injuries?” Cas said, cocking his head to the side and furrowing his brows in confusion.

 

“Yeah, I guess it is.” Dean laughed again and reached for the glass of water and the pills. He was careful to avoid brushing Cas’ fingers.

 

“What’s funny then? Is there some reference I’m missing?”

 

“No, just—” he walked over to his desk and set the glass down. “I’m just surprised that after...that you still...that you care enough to bring me painkillers.” Dean fumbled the pill bottle open, keeping his back to Castiel so he wouldn’t have to meet his eyes.

 

Dean tapped a couple pills into his hand and swallowed them with a gulp of water. He set the glass down, flinching when he felt Castiel’s hand on his shoulder. Punches were easier for him to accept than gentle touches when they came from Cas. He was good at taking punches.

 

“Dean...” Cas pulled Dean around to face him.

 

_Please just punch me again, that’s what I deserve._ He stared at the blue stripes on Cas’ tie and gritted his teeth. The flare of pain along his jaw almost drowned out the gentle, steady warmth of Cas’ hand on his shoulder. He watched Cas’ other hand begin to rise and squeezed his eyes shut, hoping it would form a fist and slam into him. He braced himself for the impact.

 

Instead, an open hand slid across his unbruised cheek. Dean sucked his bottom lip into his mouth again and bit down hard. Pain bloomed anew, and the taste of copper flooded his mouth.

 

“Dean, please.” Castiel applied gentle pressure to Dean’s unbruised jaw to force his head up. “Look at me.”

 

Something in Castiel’s voice, soft but commanding, compelled Dean’s eyes to open. The last thing he wanted was to look into those blue depths and see anything other than anger or hatred. Why did Cas have to look at him like he actually cared about Dean? Like Dean was a worthwhile human being and not a monster in disguise? He released his now bloody lip to suck in a gasp of air, which turned into a choking sob. Dean had hoped to see the divine wrath of an Angel of the Lord about to smite him. He knew he didn’t deserve the tender look Cas was giving him.

 

“I forgive you, Dean.”

 

“Cas—” his voice broke. That was the last thing he wanted to hear. The sting of tears he refused to let fall made him look away. “I can’t ask you to forgive me. I don’t deserve your forgiveness.”

 

“You don’t need to ask. It’s mine to give, and you have it,” Cas turned Dean’s head back to meet his gaze again, “whether you think you deserve it or not.”

 

Dean swallowed hard, willing the tears away. He wasn’t going to cry in front of Cas, he was stronger than that. “I don’t even forgive myself, Cas—how can you, after what I did to you, the things I said...” His voice was unsteady, and he felt the tears well up, one finally breaking free to trail down his cheek. Cas swiped his thumb out to catch it, and that small movement broke Dean. Another gut-wrenching sob escaped, and then Cas was pulling him forward to wrap Dean in his arms.

 

Dean brought his arms up to push Cas away, grasping at the lapels of his trenchcoat. He wanted to shove Cas, curse him, anything to make him angry enough to yell back or hit him again. Dean deserved a punch to the gut, a knee to the face, not hugs and forgiveness. Cas held him with the restrained but unyielding strength of a billion year old supernatural being. A being who had once vowed to stay by his side until the end of time, even if he destroyed the world. Dean really didn’t deserve this.

 

“You are forgiven. You deserve forgiveness. I forgive you.” Cas whispered the words against Dean’s hair like a mantra until Dean finally gave in and relaxed. He was too tired to struggle.

 

Maybe he didn’t believe he deserved forgiveness, but Cas seemed to, and Dean could believe in Cas. His body went boneless as the guilt, anger, and self-hatred he had locked inside came flooding out. If Cas hadn’t been holding him he would have sunk to the floor and curled up in the fetal position by now. He hadn’t had the time, or the desire if he was being honest with himself, to deal with any of the fallout from the Mark of Cain. Even his legendary capacity to internalize and ignore feelings had a limit. Of course Cas was the one to breach that damn and release it all.

 

Dean couldn’t stop the flood now if he tried, and he had to admit that it felt good to be held, supported while he let go. It had been months since he’d felt the touch of another person, or Angel in this case, except in brief shoulder pats or violent blows. He buried his face in tan trenchcoat and brought his arms around to grasp Cas like a man drowning, which in a way, he was. And Cas was his lifesaver, his rock, as always.

 

“Those things I said,” Dean mumbled against Cas’ shoulder, “I didn’t mean them.”

 

“I know Dean, it wasn’t you talking.” Cas ran a soothing hand up and down Dean’s back. Dean felt muscles release that he hadn’t even realized he’d been clenching. Gradually, he relaxed even more, letting himself melt into Cas’ hold. He ignored the voice in the back of his head that told him he was a sissy for crying on another man’s shoulder this way. He was tired of feeling weak for wanting physical contact that didn’t involve breaking skin or bruising flesh. He was tired of denying his need for affection, for Cas. He took a deep, shuddering breath as the tears finally began to slow.

 

Cas pulled back, just enough to make eye contact again, gripping Dean’s shoulders. Dean dropped his arms, moving to wipe his face clean of tears, then shoved his hands in the pockets of his dead guy robe. Now that Cas was looking directly at him again he felt self-conscious about his uncharacteristic outburst of emotion. But Cas was looking at him like he was all that existed in the world, and Dean couldn’t tear his eyes away.

 

“Stop pushing me away, Dean.” Cas began, his voice insistent, hands squeezing Dean’s shoulders. “I know you have a difficult time accepting forgiveness or affection, so if you need me to hit you, I’ll hit you. Preferably not in the face.” He raised a hand to run a thumb over Dean’s puffy brow bone and trailed his fingers down to cup Dean’s swollen jaw. “But I’m also going to take care of you after.”

 

Dean chuckled, wondering if Cas understood how what he was offering sounded. Cas had gotten all that pop culture knowledge from Metatron. There almost certainly had to have been some information about BDSM relationships in there... Warmth flooded low in his abdomen at that thought. Was that what Cas was offering? Was that something Dean wanted?

 

Cas dragged his thumb from Dean’s jaw to run across his split lip, letting his fingertips trail along Dean’s stubbled cheek. “I wish you’d let me fix this.”

 

Dean felt his cheeks grow warm under Cas’ fingers. He cleared his throat, chuckling to cover his nervousness. “Worried my pretty face will be forever marred?”

 

“Your face is already marred. I just don’t like seeing the evidence of my loss of control on your pretty face.”

 

“Cas, you can’t blame yourself for what that spell made you do—” Dean began, then stopped. “Wait, did you just call me pretty?”

 

“And marred, yes.”

 

Dean caught the hint of a smile beginning to lift the corner of Cas’ mouth and felt himself smiling in response. “I’m offended.”

 

“At being described as pretty?” Cas’ blue eyes lit up in a way that made Dean’s heart skip a beat. “Or marred?”

 

“Both. If anything, I’m ruggedly handsome.”

 

“That you are,” Cas smiled warmly and slid his hand back down to Dean’s shoulder. “You’re also exhausted and in need of rest.”

 

Dean was starting to feel drowsy, whether because of the painkillers kicking in or the emotional release leaving him drained he wasn’t sure, but he had no energy left to act surprised that Cas had just agreed that he was handsome. When Cas’ arm slid around Dean’s shoulders he let himself be steered toward the bed, which was looking awfully cozy and comfortable.

 

“Get some sleep, Dean,” Cas said as he helped Dean into bed and pulled the covers up and over him. “Just pray if you need anything. I’ll hear you.”

 

“Okay,” Dean mumbled. His eyelids were heavy, and the throbbing on the left side of his face had abated. His eyes were almost closed when he saw Cas open the door to his room, about to step out into the hallway. He realized he really didn’t want Cas to go.

 

_Stay_ ... 

 

The thought had entered his mind unbidden. Panic flared in his chest as he saw Cas hesitate, hand stilled on the doorknob. Had he prayed that at Cas? Had Cas heard?

 

Time seemed to slow as thoughts full of fear and longing fought for dominance in his mind. His heart was pounding in his chest, and he was no longer anywhere near the verge of sleep. Did he really want Cas to stay? Yes. He realized he did, and he was nervous because Cas might not want to stay. Could he really ask him to? Would Cas stay if he asked?

 

There was only one way to find out the answers to those questions.

 

“Cas...” he choked out, before he could over think things and change his mind, “would you—” before he could even get the last word out Cas was stepping back inside the room and pushing the door closed with a soft click, “stay?”

 

“Of course, Dean.”

 

Cas walked back to Dean’s desk and started to pull out the chair there. Now that Dean was finally being honest with himself, he knew what he wanted, and Cas sitting in a chair across the room from him all night wasn’t it. He wasn’t sure he could say the words he needed to say out loud though. He managed to clear his throat and hesitated before forcing a couple of words out. “No, over here.” As he said it, he visualized Cas climbing into the bed and holding him, and he hoped that directing that image to Cas would work.

 

Just as he was about to sit down, Cas hesitated again. He straightened and shrugged out of his trenchcoat and suit jacket, draping them over the back of the chair, then loosened and pulled his tie over his head and toed his shoes off. Dean held his breath as he lost sight of Cas walking around to the other side of the bed. He felt the mattress dip down, and then Cas was under the covers and snaking an arm around his torso, resting his hand on Dean’s forearm.

 

“Is this ok?” Cas asked in a low voice, warm breath tickling the back of Dean’s neck.

 

Dean couldn’t remember ever hearing Cas’ already gravelly voice sounding quite like that, or from quite so close before. It took a moment for his brain to get past the sound and feel of it to process the meaning of the words. He shivered and cleared his throat, trying to focus. “Yeah, Cas, this is good.”

 

Dean forced his breathing to slow, determined to relax and not freak out about the fact that his best (male) friend was spooning him in bed. After a while he calmed, probably mostly due to the painkillers doing their best to drag him into oblivion. Although the warmth Castiel was radiating behind him didn’t hurt. His eyelids drooped closed, and he was just on the verge of sleep when he felt Cas snuggle closer and press a chaste kiss to the back of his neck. Dean smiled and moved to entwine his and Cas’ fingers, pulling Cas’ arm tighter around him. Then finally, he drifted off into the first peaceful sleep he’d had in months.


End file.
